


Of Monsters and Masquerades

by Akaiba



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Dubious Consent, Dubious Consent Due To Identity Issues, In Disguise, In Public, M/M, Masquerade, Rimming, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 03:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2717558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akaiba/pseuds/Akaiba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was a tumblr prompt I tided up and added a sex scene into. Because I can and becuase they needed it. </p><p>Killian encounters a man all in gold at a masquerade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Monsters and Masquerades

The plan was simple; get into the castle, steal the jewel, be gone before the guards even knew to raise the alarm. The masked ball had provided the perfect opportunity and it was supposed to be child’s play.

The masks gave easy anonymity and Killian found himself feeling dangerously… invincible. A room full of nobility too self-involved to miss their trinkets for a good long while, alcohol easing the moments of prolonged physical contact necessary to remove a necklace or bracelet and all the idiots to con that his black little heart could ask for. The jewel would be stolen by one of his crew, Killian himself electing to mingle among the guests and cause a distraction if necessary. He was good at this; getting the nobles to eat out his hand and think him one of them.

He can’t still his nimble fingers as they filch out of pockets, compliment a lady’s hair and pull his fingers away from the curls with a diamond earring in his palm.

His highwayman, roguish attire is a joke to himself as the lady’s fawn over his devilish airs and graces, easily slipping into their company and purses as he might shed a coat.

He's had some of the wine and let himself relax, get careless, hand reaching almost brazenly and Killian’s heart leaps into his throat when a hand closes around his wrist. He’s been caught, he knows before he looks up- the grip is too firm, the stranger has seen him in the act. It’s a mask that greets him when he does look up and it does nothing to reassure him. He’s going to the dungeons, he’s failed, his crew will be executed and he will hang with a warning to all pirates around his neck.

He’s too shocked to resist when the stranger pulls him forward and into the dancing pairs. He staggers to a halt when the man stops, soft wavy brown hair broken by the gold tie that holds his mask in place, as the head turns and Killian sees the mask again. They’re in the centre of the ballroom floor and Killian is waiting for the man to call out for guards or attack him- anything at all.

The golden mask is in the shape of a crocodile's face and glitters is if the scales of the monster were treasure. It covers the man’s face entirely, unlike Killian’s whose cuts off at his mouth. He knows his charms and he knows his smile can woo most faint hearted maidens, his pockets of stolen jewelry accounts for it, but he feels uncomfortably bear where the mask had given him false bravado before. This man is unknown to him and holds his fate and the fate of this perfect heist in his hands. Killian might go to the gallows and never even know his captors face.

The man lets go of his wrist and instead takes his hand. Killian tries to jerk it free but the man’s gloved hand will not be so easily shaken free and he’s pulled forward again, pressed against the man’s chest and manhandled into the steps of the dance as he struggles to get his feet under him.

"R-release m-" Killian tries to demand but the man ignores him and instead presses their faces close together. He’s gone again in a flash, moving around Killian and pressing their palms together for the step but Killian cannot shake the rush it had given him. He cannot even say why. This man does not even seem to mind his hook and presses his palm to its cold curve when they turn the other way like it doesn’t even phase him. The elegant ladies of this castle had assumed it part of his costume but it is obvious, especially like this, that it is not. 

One dance turns into three and Killian can’t say when he stopped resisting and trying to slip away. Before he knows it he’s pressing close eagerly, something about this man knowing he was stealing and not caring making him bold. He’s flushed and breathless by the time the third song winds down and he can’t ignore the way he’s pressed too close to the man, not an inch of space between them. There is too much wine in his belly, too much treasure in his pockets, too much heat pressed to him and he loves every second of it. No one in this kingdom seems to mind that they are two men and not a one is even looking at the obscene way Killian’s back is plastered to the man’s chest, head tilted back against the stranger’s shoulder and he can feel that he isn’t the only one enjoying himself. The evidence of that is pressed against his rear and he’s smirking with arrogance as he grinds back.

That cannot last, far too polite company for such things, but the tease is enough to hear the way his masked partner’s breath huffs out and even muffled Killian can hear the grunt of want from behind the mask. A gloved hand slides up his neck and into his hair, tipping him back a little further until his throat is tantalisingly bear and he can press his face into the man’s neckscarf and inhale.

Killian has no opinion on preference for women over men and indeed tends to prefer an ‘any port in a storm’ type philosophy in regards to seeing what’s on offer before he chooses a bedmate. It has, however, been a while since he last dallied with a man and he’s suddenly overcome with the want of it, wanting this and wanting it to remain anonymous.

The nobles will start to notice him if he tries that in the middle of the ballroom floor; even his glibe tongue cannot wriggle out of that sort of deviant debauchery.

Thoughts of tongues and wriggling and debauchery isn’t helping him at all and he makes a soft whine at the other hand the man presses to his belly and uses to pull them tighter together. There isn’t any closer than can be with clothes and Killian has had enough of dancing. 

This time he takes the hand of the man dressed in gold, pulling him through the dancers and out into the courtyard. It is dark out here, the lights from the ball distant, and Killian pulls them deeper to the small garden area. Its just a small clutch of trees and hedges really, circled in stone and still not far enough away to be safe. Killian likes that element; that they might be caught. 

He's barely turned before the stranger has pushed him against the tree most in shade, the faint music they can still hear drowned out by Killian's gasp and moan as he clutches at the man's shoulders. The man's mask hides his mouth and Killian wants to tear it off.

He wants teeth on his neck and a mouth sucking bruises he'll remember but he also doesn't want to know who his captor is. He loves that this is some nameless, anonymous fuck he can remember fondly. His fingers itch and reach however, and the stranger grasps his wrists tightly before spinning him round. Killian's heart pounds as he's roughly pushed against the tree face first, legs kicked apart by one elegant gold boot. He's grinning and high off the rush, obediently leaving his hands where they are pressed to the tree as the stranger's hands instead slide around his waist. 

There's a rush, a push to have them hurry, but the stranger isn't letting it take them too fast as he presses up against his back and rocks against his rear. Killian can feel the press of thick, hard flesh right between the curve of his cheeks, biting down on moans as his eyes flick to the party indoors. He wonders if there are other revelers out in the courtyard, hidden amongst the bushes and similarly engaged, watching them in turn and knowing as the stranger pulls Killian's tight leather costume trousers down, baring him to the night air. 

The stranger’s heat soothes him, pulling him closer as he reaches around to Killian's front and wraps a firm, dry hand around the pirate's cock. It makes him hiss even as he bucks into it but the excitement has the stranger's palm slicked in no time. He rocks into each touch, keening high and muffled as he bites his own mouth closed and thanks whatever God's for his own mask that this man will never know the face of the pirate he's reducing to shaking. 

He outright keens when the man takes back his hand, instead pushing Killian's upper half forward and making him present his rear. Killian hears him drop to his knees, his own breath catching before being punched out of him when two hands unceremoniously push his cheeks apart and hot breath ghosts over his hole. Killian gets a scant moment to process the movement when suddenly there is hot wet pressure lapping at him, his mouth dropping open in shock. Nothing halts the huffed, desperate, whined sounds he makes as the stranger sets about his task. 

It's sloppy, like all the best things are in these acts, and Killian can scarce keep his sounds to a low register as the man presses in deep, over and over until Killian's body opens for him and he can slide in deeper and have Killian desperate for more. It isn't deep enough, only teases over what he really wants, and the stranger seems content to keep as he is until Killian is sobbing. Killian has half a mind to let him. 

But they are on a time constraint, Killian more than the man as any second the red banner could drop from the north window and he has to leave when it does. Or he really will hang. 

"Please, come on." He grunts out and nearly bites his tongue off when suddenly two slick, slender fingers push into him without warning. The fingers are long, they reach deep and press right where Killian wants and he rocks back eagerly for more. He is rewarded and groans as two fingers push him open, tongue teasing at the rim and in counter to the push and thrust of the digits. A third is pushed in before he is ready to take it and the burn slides down his back deliciously. Killians boot knocks the vial of oil the man has placed down, spilling it over and he can only muffle a laugh. 

This will be rough and he will remember it for days. 

He can't wait. 

"Fuck me, come on." Killian hisses, tugging on the man's hands to get him to stand. 

The man obeys and a brief fumbling has a hard cock pressing up against Killian's hole. Killian's breath catches and he pushes back, groaning along with the stranger as the cock pushes into him in a long, slow slide. Its too much to take with so little slick but Killian grits his teeth and does it without comment, only hissing as the man does not pause and fucks him in earnest now. Hard thrusts that rock him on his feet and make his toes curl, hands grasping at him with one on his hip and the other around his throat. 

He can't speak through the grunts and moans, arching into each thrust and barely keeping himself upright with his grip on the tree. His cock is heavy and neglected between his legs, Killian unable to reach for himself as he holds himself up and lets the man fuck him how he likes. Its rough, borderline brutal really, and everything Killian loves about sex with a man. The hand around his throat squeezes just a little and it's enough. He comes without warning, a surprised cry of ecstasy ripped from his mouth as he spills over the tree and the ground, clenching hard around the cock within him and pulling the man into relief with him. 

They pause just a moment to catch their breath before the man pulls free of Killian's body with an obscene, slick sound. It leaves Killian feeling empty and he can feel the wet mess of the man's release deep inside, trickling just out of his hole and he shudders. 

They are redressing when Killian sees it- a red banner out the north window- his signal to leave and that the jewel is theirs.

He stammers out an apology and the man looks at gim a moment before he bows like Killian doesn’t know the feel of his thick cock splitting him open, like he doesn’t have his come still inside him. Killian doesn’t want to leave this unfinished, and apparently neither does the stranger as he leans into Killian’s ear and breathes, “You dance well for a pirate.”

Ice slides down Killian’s spine and into his stomach as he recognises the voice and staggers back. The crocodile grin of the mask is all he sees as he turns and flees, hating that his post orgasm bliss isn’t abating as fast as it should, that he can still feel the heat of that body pressed to his and he can hear manic, impish laughter following him out the hall, the monster's seed between his legs, shame and disgust curling deep into his stomach

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr: akaiba.tumblr.com


End file.
